


Shooting Lessons

by dweetwise



Series: DbD Crackfics [7]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Cowboy Jake, Crack, Gen, One-sided Caleb/Jake, Role Reversal, Swearing, like barely mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25443901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dweetwise/pseuds/dweetwise
Summary: Jake spawns into a trial with the Deathslinger's rifle in place of his flashlight. The killer offers to teach him how to use the weapon. (short crackfic)
Series: DbD Crackfics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844227
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	Shooting Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> for a crackfic prompt of a survivor and killer spawning into a trial with each other's items

Jake pretends not to hear David’s amused snort as a familiar weight materializes on his head and fog starts creeping up his legs. Great, looks like the Entity wanted to dress him in the cowboy hat just in time for his next trial. He barely manages to grab a flashlight before the fog sweeps him away, deciding to play his part and fully embrace the Sheriff Jake persona by bullying the killer.

When Jake comes to in the trial, he almost drops the flashlight he’s carrying because _holy fuck is it made of lead or what_ —

He grabs the item with both hands and promptly freezes. That’s definitely not a flashlight; it’s a goddamn rifle. He has a gun in his hands, what the _fuck_ , is the Entity on crack or something?

Hold on. It’s not just any gun, it’s a familiar harpoon gun, belonging to a certain wild west killer. He almost didn’t recognize the weapon, because this is the first time he’s seen it this close _without_ staring into its barrel while being reeled in with a harpoon in his chest.

Jake kind of zones out, holding the gun awkwardly while daydreaming of what kind of havoc he could wreak against all the killers, particularly Myers and Freddy, imagining the looks of pure glee on Laurie and Quentin’s faces.

“Give me the damn gun, boy!” an angry command interrupts his violent thoughts, and he sees the gun’s owner leaning threateningly against the shack door frame. Jake squints. Actually, on second thought the killer just looks really winded and like he’s trying to catch his breath. Did he run all the way here, wobbling with his leg brace? Jake snorts at the mental image.

“Ye little rascal!” Deathslinger warns, drawing a revolver from his hip with lightning quick reflexes and pointing the weapon at him, making Jake tense up — hold on, that’s not a gun, that’s just a flashlight; _his_ flashlight! Looks like the Entity got their items mixed up.

Jake stares blankly at the killer who is still pointing the item at him threateningly. In return, he lifts the rifle and takes aim.

“Yeehaw motherfucker,” Jake says, firing the gun at the killer—

—And missing by over a foot, the harpoon hitting the wall and clattering to the floor uselessly. Jake stares. Deathslinger stares. Jake starts slowly reeling in the harpoon to reload the weapon. The killer snaps out of it and yanks on the chain.

“Shite!” the killer exclaims, dropping the chain like a hot potato. That’s right, Jake realizes. You can’t take items from someone’s hand; one of the Entity’s weird rules. Looks like the gun is his, at least for now.

“Tell ye what, pardner,” the killer drawls, suddenly awfully friendly and seeming to have come to the same conclusion as Jake. “I’ll teach ye to use the gun, give ye some shootin’ practice too, if ye give ‘er back to me after.”

“Hmm. I don’t know, seems like a shit deal,” Jake comments, continuing to reload the weapon. Why does it take so damn long?

“Can’t be wearin’ the hat if ye can’t even hit a cow’s arse. Don’t ye wanna be a _real_ cowboy?”

Jake feels his resolve crumble. He’s never been a fan of firearms, but fuck if his biggest childhood dream wasn’t to be a cowboy, dueling outlaws, bounty hunting with a lasso, the whole shebang. He already has the hat, so…

“Fine,” Jake relents and nearly insta-regrets his decision upon seeing the killer’s smug smirk.

“Names Quinn, by the way. Caleb Quinn.”

“Jake.”

“Let’s see what ye got, Jake.”

* * *

After three gens have popped on the other side of the map and Jake has been struggling to aim the damn rifle down the makeshift shooting range Caleb put together, Jake finally hits one of the barrels dead center. He lets out a surprised gasp; he actually did it!

“Atta boy!” Caleb encourages, moving to dislodge the harpoon from the wood. “We’ll make a proper sheriff outta ye yet. Now try to shoot tha’ one, through the window.”

* * *

When the other survivors have already left, Jake is standing in an exit and mentally saying his goodbyes to the rifle. He reluctantly hands the weapon back to its rightful owner, who tips his hat in gratitude. Jake turns and steps out through the exit, when—

“Swing by the saloon if ye ever need some ridin’ lessons too,” Caleb offers with a suggestive smirk. Jake doesn’t even have time to sputter a reply before the trial fades from his view and he’s teleported back to the campfire.

“Howdy?” Feng offers in greeting, eyeing his hat in amusement as he materializes next to her.

“ _Not_ howdy!” Jake grumbles in response, throwing the stupid cowboy hat into the fire and stomping it a few times for good measure. Bye-bye childhood dream, see you never!


End file.
